The Woes of Mrs Weasley
by HedwigBlack
Summary: It's not easy watching your children grow up. Molly and Arthur comfort each other as they watch Charlie go off on his own. MollyArthur for Rochelle


**This is for Rochelle (slightlysmall) who requested MollyArthur and writes it much better than I do. But I love this couple so much so hopefully I didn't screw this up. They're just too adorable. :D**

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The Burrow is in a state of almost silence which only ever happens at four in the morning. But while this is a time when all of the Weasleys should be sleeping, there are three who are not. It's early. It's too early for such an emotional moment, but the Romanian Dragon Reserve wants new recruits to arrive at the crack of dawn.

Arthur leans against the kitchen table and watches his wife give their second son one last tearful hug goodbye. Or at least, tearful on her part; Charlie's grinning from ear to ear though Arthur has to give him credit that up until now he's tried very hard not to show just how excited he is to be leaving for Romania. They've all chosen to call it "leaving for Romania" instead of "leaving home" in hopes that it would make it easier for Molly to accept that her son is growing up, that he is leaving _her_.

But of course, now that the moment is here, it doesn't seem as if matters how they phrase the occasion. It's simply not easy for a parent to watch their children leave them.

"Mum," Charlie says quietly. "Mum, I have to go. Portkey. Late."

Molly sniffs and reluctantly pulls away. "Of course, dear. Go on, then."

She follows him to the doorway, going on about being careful and remembering to write and anything else that comes to mind before Charlie is waving and walking away. Arthur comes to stand beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder. She dabs her eyes with her apron, while they watch Charlie disappear over the hill to where a Portkey is waiting for him.

"It's hard watching your children grow up, isn't it?" she finally asks. "I thought letting go of Bill was difficult but…" She trails off, unable to say what she means. Instead, she comes up with a single word that seems to encompass everything she feels about the affair. "_Dragons."_ And fresh tears begin to fall because to her that is the only appropriate reaction to the fate her son has chosen for himself. Dragons.

Arthur kisses her forehead and holds her closer to his chest. His arms are warm around her shoulders and in the stillness of the morning it's difficult not to think of days when it was just the two of them. Back when Charlie had never even been thought of. Back when they'd never considered what it would be like when they had to say goodbye and wonder if they'd done the right things. "He'll be fine," he murmurs, voicing the fear she hasn't been able to actually say out loud. "He's always fine."

"He's going to get himself killed," she responds seriously. She pulls away enough to look up at him wide-eyed and clearly afraid. "I wonder how I ever managed to raise such a reckless boy."

"Takes after me," Arthur says with a smile, earning him a light punch on his arm.

"It's not funny," she pouts.

"But it's true. He manages to get himself in trouble far too often, and his curiosity gets the better of him more often than not. But he is _always_ okay, isn't he?"

"He's lucky, you mean."

"Yes," Arthur says, nodding in agreement. "That too. He's lucky to have a mother like you who can put up with him. Just like I'm lucky to have you as my wife because you put up with _me_." He presses a comforting hand against her back as he leads her into the house again, shutting out the darkness behind them. "Most of the time," he adds as an afterthought.

"You put up with me just as often, love. What with my constant worrying over everyone. You're right. I'm being silly. He'll be fine." She looks about for some employment and starts to scrub the never ending pile of dishes by hand. It helps relieve the stress of the day that's barely begun to do something without magic for once.

Arthur grabs a towel for drying but just as he grabs a plate he as to put it down as a noise overhead grabs his attention. The footsteps are light as though they are trying to avoid detection, and both the Weasley parents have learned to recognize the sound by now. It unmistakably belongs to the twins.

"I'll send them back to bed," Arthur offers.

He goes up the steps to the bedroom that the twins share, careful to be quiet and not wake up the rest of the house. He is surprised to find the boys cooperative this morning. They'd overslept and had not been able to carry out their "proper send off" much to their dismay and much to Arthur's relief. He doesn't ask questions because he doesn't want to know the answers, and makes a note to not mention it to Molly.

He goes back down to find her still scrubbing. Her eyes have begun to water once more, but she doesn't make a sound for a long time until a dish suddenly slips out of her hand and back into the sink. "Arthur," she says.

"Yes, Mollywobbles?"

"I know he'll be okay," she says confidently.

"Good."

She reaches for him once more and she leans her head against his chest. "I just don't know if _I_ will be."


End file.
